


Her Good Heart

by Name1



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: F/M, Family Feels, Fluff, Mandalorian Clans, friends to something more
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:33:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26932921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Name1/pseuds/Name1
Summary: Cara and Din find a small covert of his people. Din catches up with an old friend and receives some sage advice.
Relationships: Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV) & Din Djarin & Cara Dune, Cara Dune/The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV), Din Djarin & Cara Dune, The Armorer (The Mandalorian TV) & Din Djarin
Comments: 27
Kudos: 139





	Her Good Heart

**Author's Note:**

> One more little one-shot before the end of October. 
> 
> I didn’t spell out all the translations :) You can find them here so you can struggle along with Cara trying to find the right word in a foreign language…….http://mandoa.org/

He didn’t know how much it would feel like coming home to be able to converse in Mando’a again. He had taught Cara a handful of phrases and words over the last year, but to be able to talk fluently with one of his own, who even shared his accent, was a gift he hadn't seen coming. Cara had really outdone herself with this surprise. He still wasn't sure how she managed to find the refugee covert carved into the side of the mountain outside the capital city of Zeffo. After word had reached them that the Armorer had left Nevarro, thankfully alive and on her own terms, Cara had helped him try to find her trail for months. Din had eventually given up hope when it seemed she'd disappeared into thin air, but Cara had been devoted to the cause—he just didn’t know how devoted, until he was talking with his old friend in person again.

Cara pushed him toward the group of cautious Mandalorians with a good-natured shove. She wasn't insecure or jealous that they'd stumbled across a smattering of his people--she couldn't be happier for him or happier to step aside to let him enjoy this reunion. Once they’d been granted safe passage, she'd walked beside him up the stone steps and into the side of the mountain and followed the Armorer into a mostly open space where they could catch up. The communal space they found themselves in was used for dining and attached to the playroom (for lack of a better term) for the younger children, so they were always close by. Cara carried Bean into the room with simple toys scattered on the floor and nodded to Din as he took a seat at one of the dining tables in the adjoining room to catch up with his friend in the relative peace of the empty dining hall. They were only maybe fifty feet apart, but the illusion of separate rooms created from the open doorway gave the illusion of privacy, not that it mattered--there was nothing he couldn’t say in front of her. He'd worried Cara would feel put out when he wanted to talk with his friend, but she bowed out gracefully and let them catch up in relative privacy.

His old friend hadn’t seemed nearly as surprised as he expected when he and Cara trekked their way up the mountain under the sight of at least a dozen helmeted sentries with weapons drawn.

Her voice was just as he remembered it. "You know, when I saw you were still traveling with Cara after all this time, I was a bit surprised,” the woman with the bronze colored helmet and maroon colored chest plate said. 

“Why,” he asked.

“She’s a bit rough around the edges and not at all who I imagined you settling down with.” Before he could jump to her defense, however, the Armorer held up a hand to stop him in his tracks. "That's not an insult," she assures him. “She's better than any partner I had imagined."

Word of their arrival spread quickly and before they knew it there were another thirty or so refugee Mandalorians from all different clans sneaking a peak at the new arrival and his outsider companion in their midst. 

Even though she knew they were probably talking about her, Cara had encouraged him to go have a chat and she holed up in the corner of the adjoining room where he could still see them. She had been more than happy to wander further off, but he had said under his breath that he wanted them in eyesight. He wasn't paranoid, just felt more at ease knowing where they were. He looks through the doorway and sees her cuddling the kid--the only bare faces in a room full of helmet-covered ones. He knew the Mandalorians of this ramshackle covert would warily accept her among them since he vouched for her, but still few were being stubborn--refusing to acknowledge her out of pettiness. Even the armorer had told them Cara was welcome and would do them no harm, but he could still see they eldest among them were on edge. The children gave her a wide berth but seemed intrigued by her, nonetheless. One of the bolder children had even asked to touch her hair before his mother had whisked him away. She likely picked up on some of the chatter and questions floating around her--she knew just enough vocabulary to tell they didn't understand why she was here. She had offered to stay behind on the ship for the day, so he could reconnect on his own, but he'd vetoed that. He didn't want to separate from them after the last disastrous time they'd spent the day apart. Where he went, they went and they went where he went.

"I can't blame them for being wary of outsiders," he says to his friend from what seemed like an old life, watching how the others are eyeing Cara from around the room. Many of them found each other after experiences similar to his own—scattering after being attacked by either the Empire or by outsiders who were prejudiced toward their way of life. All different backgrounds and experiences were found in the side of this mountain--a true sanctuary to those in need of it, but they'd learned the hard way to only trust those like them, and Cara was certainly not like them at first glance. The safety in numbers far outweighed any slight cultural differences between clans found mingling here, but he wondered how far he could push it bringing someone who wasn’t one of them into their safe haven. While a part of his was unsettled to be around so many different tribal remnants and cultures, it was fascinating to see clans other than the one he grew up in. He had to remind himself he had his own clan now: the three of them ----well, _two_ in the absolute strictest sense--but three in every way that really counted. 

“They do look a bit surprised, but they’re not combative and I doubt they’ll treat her with open hostility,” the armored woman tells him honestly.

"Seeing one of our people living with someone not of our creed must come as a shock to many, but she's the only reason I found you,” he tells the Armorer. “When I gave up after a series of dead ends, she kept looking.” He still can't believe he's in front of this woman he'd known practically all his life. There were so few craftsmen/women that could shape Beskar that he knew any tribe of Mandalorians would be built around someone of her skills, but it was almost unbelievable they'd managed to find her again. 

"While the rest of this tribe that formed may have been shocked to see you and Cara walk in side by side, it was clear they don’t know you like I do. It was clear even from the last time I saw you, how you two--"

He knew that tone and interrupted her before she could finish that thought. "I thought you're supposed to deal in armor and weapons, not relationship advice."

"So…….there _is_ a relationship to advise then?" she asked, knowingly. He could imagine she was enjoying this quite a bit.

"You're impossible,” he says fondly, already exhausted, “and I'm too old to need a matchmaker."

"I would beg to differ since you claim she’s not your riduur yet, but you haven't taken your eyes off her once since you got here. It’s curious…."

Din has an answer for that. "I'm just making sure she's not overwhelmed or putting up with harassing comments. Some of them might be duly prejudiced against someone who doesn't live exactly by our rules." _He can’t help but wonder what would happen if the others didn't see Cara's character and only saw her uncovered face? What if they turned on her while he was in the next room?_

That made his friend laugh. "I'd argue she lives _entirely_ by our rules with only the one exception of her face being visible,” she states, loud enough the others could hear it if they were listening, but the next part was only for Din’s ears. “And all of the sudden you think she can't take care of herself? Don't let _her_ hear you say that."

"Of course I do, I just...." 

It was almost like the other woman was in his head with her next question. "She’s a mother to your foundling and accepts our way of life,” she states plainly. “I thought the next time our paths crossed the two of you would have been together, so what are you waiting for Din?"

“I’m not waiting on anything,” he argues.

"I know you think you don't deserve it,” she infers from what she knows of him over the years, “but let yourself have something good for once. _She's_ good for you. She pushes you when you need it and outright carries you when she has to. She doesn’t let you get away with shit and keeps you honest when you need it. She's loyal and brave and has a good heart. Lie to me and tell me you don’t think she’s beautiful."

He couldn’t lie and he didn’t know what he was waiting for to take that step they both seemed ready for--he just knew Cara was beautiful in a way that had nothing to do with her physical appearance; strong in a way that had nothing to do with her muscles; kind in a way that didn’t make her weak. Watching her so relaxed in a group of people that were like him--slowly winning them over--made him feel something weird in his chest. He knew she'd never be a Mandalorian, but seeing how hard she was trying--the strides she was making at learning enough of his language to prove it mattered to her--it really touched him.

He doesn't have an answer and instead looks through the open doorframe to catch a glimpse of her to put his mind at ease. He sees her sitting on a chair wearing her black scoop neck soft undershirt. She'd taken her armor off to clean it since she rolled in the mud earlier in a scuffle that couldn't be avoided as they walked straight into an Imperial scouting party at the base of the mountain and promptly taken them out. The kid keeps pulling on the neck of her shirt because she makes these over the top exaggerated noises of shock when he does, despite the conservative sports bra underneath keeping it from being as indecent as she made it sound. That being said, there's only so much it can cover where she almost spills out of it without her armor in place and she has to keep tugging it up after each round with tiny grabby hands. He pulls the neckline especially low and she looks up to see Din and the Armorer watching them right at that moment. She covers remarkably well. "Din, what are you teaching this boy? Look at him!" She's entirely responsible for this new game, and she knows it, but teases him anyway. He tries to take in the whole picture, but all he can see is cleavage and fuzzy ears. 

Every dramatic gasp or shocked sound of mock outrage or embarrassment makes the kid cackle and repeat the motion over and over again. Din worries he might puke if he doesn't stop laughing so hard. This was a thing of theirs, so his friend seated at the table with him probably didn’t get the joke. Whenever the kid would learn something sneaky or naughty, Cara would always loudly exclaim that Din had taught it to him, when in reality--nine and a half times out of ten--she had proudly showed it to him herself.

The kid must have worn her down, by the sound of the sigh he hears escape her. "Fine, you want in there so bad, come on. Climb in." She stuffs him in the front of her shirt facing outward so just his head and fuzzy ears are sticking out. He looks as happy as Din’s ever seen him. His little hands are curled over the seam of her shirt and he looks like he just conquered the whole world from his new position of power, looking around the room from on high.

Looking at the two of them, Din had no recourse--no defense why he hadn’t tried for more. A few of the Mandalorians who had watched her fight outside earlier were moving closer as she shared some stories and entertained the kid in her lap. She had a few admirers already Din noticed. No one could watch her in action as she single-handedly took out those armed guards earlier on their way up the mountain and not be impressed, helmet or no.

From the periphery of the room, Cara heard bits of chatter but couldn't focus on them with her limited fluency. She thought she heard something that sounded like " _because it would be a shame if she covered her face._ " She only patched the words together because she'd heard Din say something similar once. Some of the older children were laughing as she tried to converse with them in broken Mando'a. They laughed at her, but not unkindly. New foundlings were always stumbling over the unfamiliar vowels, but they'd never heard anyone learn it as an adult before. They taught her some useful phrases and Din sighed resignedly as he heard her teaching them to curse more colorfully in basic in return.

The armorer draws his attention back to her. "A few of your brothers and sisters in arms are growing braver as we speak. They must also sense what you do."

He couldn’t help but agree they saw something in her too. "Like you said, she has a good heart."

"Yes, I have to agree," she says kindly. She sees him staring as Cara pulls the kid out of her shirt and places him on the ground, leaning over quite far to do so. "I’ve seen you staring at her _good heart_ quite a few times."

He was a grown ass man of four decades and he refused to let his cheeks heat up at her "innocent" comment. 

"Oh, shut up," he says, but still feels like a boy getting caught sneaking a snack after lights out. "I can't believe I've actually spent the last year looking for you."

She laughed at his response. "I don't think I've ever heard you tell me to shut up before. You must have been around Cara too much."

That was impossible, he thought. He could be with her day in and day out for the next thirty years and it wouldn't be nearly enough. 

"I'll think about what you said," he says to satisfy her, but adds on for good measure, "but that doesn't mean you're right…..just so you know."

"Of course not," she plays along. "I'm just making a casual observation."

"Cara would say women are _always_ right," he tells her, "it's just a manner of how long it takes you to realize it that’s in question."

"See? You can't argue with her perfect logic. Now go save your partner before she has to turn down any marriage proposals. I think some of them are quite taken with her." 

That’s what worried him. The group of admirers had already grown. 

Cara looks away from the people around her to meet Din’s gaze. She practically had a full audience now. The adults had stepped in closer and closer as it became apparent not only was she not a threat to them despite her obvious strength , but that she also knew some of their language and was oddly familiar with their customs. The many different colors and styles of helmets and armor, all in such a tight space proved quite the visual, and there in the middle of it was Cara, looking for all the world like she belonged there holding their foundling as he soaked up the attention. Din noticed they were peppering her with questions now, though it didn’t feel like an interrogation--just curiosity. Cara was remarkably good with kids, despite her refusal to believe so. While the kids were naturally drawn to her, she'd demonstrated her strength and bravery earlier in the day as she’s kept that Imperial scum from discovering the secret entrance up the rock face, and the adults were drawn to her as well. Her surprising bits of Mando'a intrigued them even more. They didn't see women like her walk into the camp very often. 

The little ones were mostly just confused--

“Why did you take off your helmet?”

“Did you lose it in battle?”

“It’ll be okay, don’t worry” a young boy tried to comfort her, as he looked at her neck and no higher.

She heard the older ones shushing them with quick explanations they would understand. 

“She never had a helmet”

“No, she hasn’t lost it.”

The direct questions they asked her were easier to address.

“Are you a fighter?

She struggled to say what a dropper was in Mando'a. “Yes, you could say that. _Verd_ ….. _akaan'ade…..uhhhh…….akaanir.”_ She knew the word for hunter and fighter, but not the rest of it. “I'm a hunter by trade now, but any time the Empire comes looking for trouble I’ll make it a priority they don’t go home empty handed.” She let some of the teenagers translate that for her since she only knew the word ‘ _aru'e’_ for ‘enemy’ and ‘ _beroya’_ for hunter.. 

She heard them say the word ‘ _riduur’_ , point to Din, and look to her for a reply.

“We're ...... partners,” she tries to tell them.

“--Oyacir tome.” _Live together._

“--akaanir tome.” _Fight together._

‘ _Tome_ ,’ meant together, but she wasn’t sure it was the right word to use for people. She kept using it anyway.

The words for 'long time together' (‘ _ca’nara ori tome’)_ came out of her mouth sounding more like 'big time together', but she did the best she could. For good measure she threw in a phrase Din used all the time to explain their unique family. “ _Aliit ori'shya tal'din_.”

Adjectives were hard, she realized, as she tried to converse with these people. She was more of a 'verb' kind of girl. She made some kind of sweeping hand motion between her, Din, and the kid in her lap. “Our foundling. _Ad’ika_.”

"Yoo look rilly trong," one of them tried to say in basic for her. She got the message loud and clear. She appreciated the gesture on her behalf as the little one to tried to speak a language she was more familiar with. It was a struggle for the child to piece the words together too, but the sound of appreciation and respect was clear, and it made her laugh fondly. “Thanks. _Vor’e_.”

The questions were coming from all sides now.

\--What does your tattoo mean?

\--Your face is pretty.

\--I hope your armor is alright.

\--How long are you staying?

“Are you as good of a shot as Din?” one of the taller boys asked. Some of these adolescents had known him years ago as little kids, it seemed. They were relieved and happy to see him again, that much was clear. He'd been known as an excellent marksman among their tribe and Din had told her the younger ones had looked up to him. 

“No, of course not……….I'm _better_ ,” she said in basic, with a smile on her face so they'd know she was kidding.

She tried to say it their way next, just for laughs. “Ram’ser…..jate'shya.” (better …..marksman)

“Din……jate (Din good),” she said, before she spoke again.

“Jatne (the best),” she said this time, as she pointed to herself proudly. That got a laugh out of everyone, even the adults. You could call Cara a lot of things, but someone lacking in confidence wasn't one of them, even stumbling through a foreign language. 

“Are you going to become a Mandalorian like us?” one of the littlest girls asked. “You’re not _that_ old.”

Cara couldn’t help but laugh at the ‘compliment’. She smiled at the girl before responding, but Din couldn't hear her quiet reply or read her lips when another taller member of the tribe walked directly in front of his line of sight. He wondered what she had said in that moment.

……

He turns his attention from Cara back to the armored woman in front of him. "All jokes aside, since the last time you saw her. Does she look happy to you?" It’s clear who he’s talking about.

She took his question seriously and looked critically at the woman she hadn't seen for almost a year. She's been determined and focused and not unhappy when they spent time in one another's company on Nevarro, but it was clear she had still been weighed down by her past. She seemed so much freer now. She smiled more easily and didn't have the look of someone who was living in hiding any longer. “She looks blissfully happy to be honest,” she tells Din, “she looks relaxed and at peace with herself. Belonging and being part of a family will do that to you.”

He releases a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding. "Good."

"You look happy too, Din,” she adds.

  
"I am," he replies, before his brain can even catch up with his mouth. He _was_ happy, and it didn't take a genius to know why. Both parties responsible were now sitting on the floor of the attached room instead of in the chair. Before he'd met Cara, he'd often deflect that common question with an ‘ _I’m fine’_ , or a ‘ _things are as well as can be expected_ ’, but he was actually happy and it was so easy to say now. 

"Then that's what matters,” the older woman says sagely. “I'll stop teasing you."

"You're right, though,” he admits aloud. “I should say something.”

"Perhaps,” she says, in that enigmatic way of hers.

"Perhaps?” he asks in shock. “What do you mean perhaps? Seconds ago, you were planning our wedding.

"I can't tell you what to say Din,” she states, “but if you’re looking for advice, just say what you feel."

"I just feel happy,” he says simply.

“Then just tell her you're _happy_ ,” she replies just as simply. “When she asks why, tell her the truth. It'll all work out from there.”

He wouldn't worry about it too much, he decided. Everything had worked out pretty damn well for him. He looked back at Cara and their kid who both looked like they belonged here waiting for him to join them. _It was good to be home._

Later that night, they found themselves in a spare bedroom in the living quarters--her mouth still burning from dinner. Din had sung the praises of their traditional food and she’d eaten way more of it than she should at how happy he seemed that she liked it. The Armorer had told them they could call this room their own for as long as they liked, and Cara’s now clean armor sat beside his in the corner of the room. They were in the narrow bed now, trying to get warm under the covers to escape the cool draftiness of the room. She’s snug up against his side as they settle down for the night after checking on the kid to be sure he wasn’t upset in a new place. Her hand sought out his and he tangled his fingers with hers without hesitation.

“So, what’s it like being around the others?” she asks. “I mean, not being the only Mandalorian with a three-system radius,” she clarifies. “Is it weird for you? I hope you don’t hate me for finding this place.”

“I still can’t believe you found it, to be honest,” he replies, “but it feels good to be here. It feels even better that you're here too.” He’s still surprised at his luck for finding Cara in such an unlikely place so long ago and still sharing their lives together even now, after everything they’ve been through. That he had someone who would do all of this for him was something he still couldn’t grasp.

“Of course I’m here,” she tells him, “where else do you think I'd be, idiot?”

“Out kicking ass and taking names?” He didn’t even want to imagine a day without her being by his side, just doing life together.

“I can do that plenty right here,” she assures him confidently. “I’ll show you in the morning, when I’m not so exhausted.” She slides her knee up his leg as she gets comfortable.

When she seems nice and warm, he asks her a question that’s been on his mind. “Do you think you might want to stay here for a while--give the kid a chance to be around other kids?”

He hesitates. “Maybe we could help them by taking some jobs in the immediate area. I don't want you to feel out of place or trapped here though. If you don’t like it here, we ca---”

“Shut up,” she cuts him off. “You and the kid are here, how could I ever feel out of place.”

“Really? You wouldn’t mind sticking around for….I don’t know….a few weeks?”

“We could stay put for a while longer if you like,” she offers. “That sounds nice. Maybe I'll even win some of them over. You think they want to spar with someone without a helmet? I definitely won’t win them over with my vocabulary.”

“Careful,” he warns her teasingly. “If you knock them on their ass, they might fall in love with you. You’d be lousy in proposals by the end of the day.”

“You jealous?” she asks, but she’s grinning at him so hard he can see a dimple on one of her cheeks even in the dark.

“Why? Do you want me to be?” is his response. Truth be told, be might have felt a twinge of jealousy, but he certainly wouldn’t admit to it or act like an asshole because of it. He knew she was just teasing him anyway. A bit of playful competition was all fun and games, but true jealousy—the ugly kind-- had no place between them at all. Flirting banter and teasing though…..they were swimming in that.

“No reason to be jealous,” she assures him, both teasing and telling him the truth. “I’m not really looking to spar with anyone else the way _we_ do. Do you remember when we met, and I knocked you on your ass? It turned out pretty well if I do say so myself.”

“You mean when your boot met my flamethrower and you were on top of me so fast I thought there were two of you? Believe me, it's something I think about all the time.”

“Tell me more about that,” she requests, cheekily. “You mean at night? In bed, maybe? When do you think about it?”

“Shut up. Go to sleep.”

She laughs and squeezes him tighter. “I notice you didn't deny it.”

He laughs at how well she knows him. “Didn't you once tell me never try to bullshit a bullshitter? Does that answer your question?”

She lets him off the hook, but still can’t go to sleep yet in this strange place.

“The caves in the mountain are so much quieter than the ship,” she tells him. “I miss the hum of the engines.”

He starts humming low and intermittently. “Better?” he asks after a few moments. She wouldn’t admit it, but feeling his humming through his chest and against her face was strangely soothing.

He was such a dork when he was trying to make her laugh, but she loved him for it. “Much better,” she says softly, as she finally starts to feel sleepy. “Feels just like home.”

……………………

**Author's Note:**

> almost done with the last one-shots before S2. yay!  
> I'd love to hear if you like this one :)


End file.
